


Decisions, Decisions

by mikhailomeddows



Series: Viva Mexico [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Mexico
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 21:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikhailomeddows/pseuds/mikhailomeddows
Summary: “You ready?” Mickey asked as he approached Ian.Ian exhaled slowly, before allowing an easy grin to slip onto his face. “Yeah. Yeah I’m ready.”Alternatively: Ian does the right thing and crosses the border.





	Decisions, Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell i'm salty?

“Let’s ride” Ian says, grinning at the man next to him in the driver’s seat. The man he’d spent countless nights awake thinking about, even when he was in the arms of other guys. The man who still wanted to find him whilst he was trying to escape the police, even though Ian dropped him so coldly and harshly and refused to visit him whilst he was locked up. The man who brought that thrill back to Ian, one which had been severely lacking this last year and one he didn’t know how he survived without. 

 

Mickey attempted to hide a smile back and shoved his sunglasses down to cover his shining eyes, before turning the wheel and driving off towards his new life in Mexico. 

 

-

 

They picked up Damon along the way, and after an awkward couple of minutes in which he spoke solely to Mickey, Ian eventually settled down and became comfortable with his company. He seemed to make Mickey laugh, and that noise was something that made his heart ache and a small smile tug on his own lips involuntarily. 

 

His eyes kept flicking over to Mickey, almost as if to convince himself he was there and wasn’t just a brief hallucination stemming from nights quietly sobbing into his pillow, imagining his tattooed fingers running through his hair and telling him “it’s gonna be okay”. He watched his mouth as he spoke, his white teeth shining whenever he laughed. His eyes would flicker down to his fingers gripping the steering wheel, occasionally lifting slightly to gesture whilst he spoke. He watched his eyes, smiling whenever they’d flicker over to his, and he’d reach over and give Mickey’s thigh a squeeze, feeling his breath hitch in his chest because he could feel him under his skin. 

 

They drove for a while, laughing and joking and smoking the weed Damon somehow managed to get. There was always a tense air blanketing them though, almost choking them whenever a car zoomed past and Mickey had to subtly cover his face, but overall it seemed almost like a trio of friends making their way towards a holiday destination. 

 

Mickey took a hit from the makeshift bong they’d crafted from an empty water bottle, and Ian watched intensely as he blew out the smoke. He fumbled slightly when Mickey passed the bottle to him, but he quickly took a hit himself and felt Mickey’s eyes burning holes into his face. 

 

“Something else I wanna hit,” Mickey said as he turned off the road beside a tree. Ian grinned around the smoke filling his lungs as Mickey “kindly” asked Damon to leave the car. He looked over his shoulder to see Damon looking between the two of them in understanding before reluctantly making his way out of the car, makeshift bong in hand, and slammed the door shut. 

 

As soon as the door closed, Mickey’s lips where on his and although it had barely been a day since they’d last kissed, it felt like a lifetime. He kissed Mickey like his life depended on it, like his kisses where oxygen and he was drowning. They quickly made their way to the backseats, and they laughed together as they undressed, grabbed the lube and fell into one another again, and Ian realised that this was all he’d ever want to do. 

 

-

 

The doubt came pouring in as Mickey and Damon ran towards the car, carrying bags and yelling, a woman holding a gun hot on their heels. His breath sped up as he raced out of the parking lot, bullets ricocheting off the silver metal. He could vaguely hear Mickey screaming at Damon, his arms moving wildly and his hair a mess, but it was muffled by all the thoughts flooding his brain, racing to be the at the forefront of his mind. 

 

‘I can’t do this’ he thought repeatedly as his eyes became blurry and his clutch on the steering wheel became almost painful. ‘Fuck, I have to go home. I’m safe there. I’m loved there.’ 

 

‘You aren’t though’ another thought raced in. ‘When’s the last time any of your siblings told you that they loved you, or the last time they didn’t look at you with sympathy and underlying hatred’. He was hyperventilating at this point, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling. Mickey was still yelling at Damon, leaning further and further into the backseat ready to pounce. 

 

‘Mickey loves you.’ He thought, but it was drowned out by more ‘it’s not safe. Go home. Forget about him, you have Trevor’ and fuck, Ian hadn’t even thought about Trevor since he’d gotten into the car all those hours ago. And thinking about him now made him feel nothing. Perhaps if he’d stayed a little longer, he would have felt a small spark with him, but with Mickey, it was always a flame, lighting him up from fingertips to toes. Nothing could ever compare to that. 

 

‘It isn’t safe wherever you go’ Ian thought. He remembered the gun shots that would sound frequenting in the south side, how he couldn’t sleep unless he heard a police siren or drunken shouting. How fights were a way of communication, and scamming and stealing was an everyday activity. ‘At least In Mexico you’ll have Mickey’

 

His breathing slowly regulated after that, around the same time Mickey and Damon’s shouting had quietened down. He felt Mickey’s hand on his thigh, and he briefly turned to look at him mirroring the small smile on Mickey’s face. Mickey nodded slightly, running his hand up and down slowly, comforting, and Ian knew that if he was with the black-haired boy, everything was gonna be okay. 

 

-

 

Ian only felt slightly guilty leaving Damon at the parking lot, but the feeling quickly disappeared as soon as Mickey spoke loudly and freely about what their new life would be like in Mexico, his hands gesturing wildly and his smile a constant feature on his face. 

 

Ian had never felt more in love than he did right then. 

 

Mickey spoke about the beach and tequila, and Ian chipped in every now again with his knowledge on Mexican food and everything he wanted to try there. His face almost hurt from grinning so much and his hands were shaking from anxiety and excitement and every time his eyes caught Mickey’s his heart would beat so fast it was almost painful, but he was so, so happy. 

 

Ian’s phone ringing interrupted the happy atmosphere that they had created, and their laughs dwindled down to nothing as he grabbed the device from his pocket. He felt almost empty when he saw the word “PILLS” flashing on his screen, but he reluctantly asked Mickey to pull over with an embarrassed whisper. 

 

Mickey said nothing as Ian grabbed the orange pill container from a compartment in his bag pack, just wordlessly handed over his water bottle. Ian swallowed the pills quickly, inhaling and exhaling twice, before he slowly put the container back and smiled at Mickey, but he could feel how fake and forced it was. Mickey smiled back, and, although Ian could see his hands twitching and the words caught in his throat, he said nothing as they continued to drive. 

 

“So,” Ian began, after many minutes in a tense silence. “How are we gonna get into Mexico?” Mickey smirked, before bringing up another story of something that happened during his time in prison. 

 

-

 

They were lying next to each other on a blanket Mickey had laid out looking up at the cloudless sky dressed in stars when Ian broke. 

 

He began sobbing, hard and unforgiving, choking on breaths and tasting salt on his lips. He brought his hands up to cover his face, almost clawing at his skin as he felt Mickey’s fingers run through his hair, quiet words of comfort dripping from his mouth. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” Ian eventually managed to get out a few minutes later once his sobs became less bone wracking. “I’m so, so sorry, Mick.”

 

Mickey kissed the top of his head, burying his nose and face in his hair but didn’t dare speak a word. 

 

“I’m sorry about all that shit when we were together,” he started, his breaths hitching and catching on words, but he forced his way through them; Mickey deserved this. “All those guys. Fuck, I don’t even remember their names.” Ian let out another sob, but Mickey’s hold stayed the same. 

 

“And I’m so sorry for not taking my meds and dumping you,” Ian stuttered around the last part of the sentence. To this day, breaking up with Mickey was still one of his worst decisions, and he could barely comprehend that he could even spit out those hurtful words he’d said- especially to Mickey. “God Mickey, I’m sorry for not visiting you,” Mickey’s grip tightened at that, and Ian knew he’d hit a sore spot. Ian still didn’t understand how Mickey didn’t resent him for not visiting him and letting him spend his time withering away behind bars without knowing if Ian still cared about him. 

 

“And I’m so sorry for everything I’d said about you to Caleb and Trevor and anyone else that I- “ 

 

“Ian stop,” Mickey eventually said from beside him, and Ian hadn’t even realised he’d lifted his face from his hair. “I’m glad you’re apologising because you did some fucked up shit, but right now, I don’t care.” Ian sniffled beside him, frowning, and he opened his mouth ready to speak, but Mickey beat him to it. “Eventually I’ll want to know about that shit you said to Caleb and whatever the other guys were, and I’ll probably get mad and leave for a bit, but I’ll come back, and I’ll forgive you.” He smiled at Ian, but it was melancholy, and Ian could see his eyes glisten and the red ring that surrounded them. “I think I’d forgive you for everything.” He whispered, and Ian choked on a sob. 

 

“I love you so much, Mickey.” It wasn’t the first time Ian had told Mickey he loved him, not by a long shot. The first time was whispered into his hair after they’d stumbled home bruised and battered from the Alibi, the thrill of Mickey coming out and Terry being thrown back into jail still fresh on their minds. And the last time was spoken onto his lips before they sang their way home into the arms of the military. But Ian felt like this time it held a promise, and not a temporary one, one that could never be broken, and he knew Mickey felt it too because his eyes smiled along with his lips. 

 

“You too, Gallagher.” And Ian buried his face in Mickey’s chest, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was Mickey and Home, and he fell asleep to the sound of Mickey’s heart beat thumping rhythmically underneath his ear. 

 

-

 

As they approached the border, Ian clutched the brown bag of money in his hands like his life depended on it, knuckles turning white and fingernails digging into the paper, almost ripping it. He could feel the waves of anxiety pulsing out of Mickey, saw the way his eyes would dart around the surrounding area, his fingers tapping out a Rhythm only he knew against the steering wheel. 

 

There was a tense silence as they pulled up close to the border, and Mickey climbed into the backseat to get changed. Ian left the car as he saw Mickey pulling on the black tights over his pale skin and gulped in the fresh air. He became lightheaded with anxiety as he leant against the car, the metal burning his hands as soon as he touched it. He tried to regulate his breathing, using the techniques the people in the hospital told him about a year ago, practically the only thing he remembered from that hospital stay. 

 

Eventually, Mickey climbed out of the car, clad in a floral dress and tights with clip on earrings, but the brown wig they’d bought was laying on the front seat of the car. 

 

“You ready?” Mickey asked as he approached Ian, adjusting an earring and cringing when it nipped his ear. 

 

The doubt from before snuck its way back in; thoughts of the south side and the Gallagher’s and what he’d leave behind. But this time, the thought at the front of his mind was Mickey and how he knew he couldn’t leave him again, especially now. 

 

Ian exhaled slowly, before allowing an easy grin to slip onto his face. “Yeah. Yeah I’m ready.” Mickey grinned back, before racing towards Ian and slotting his lips easily onto his, his tattooed fingers gripping Ian’s ginger hair, Ian’s own caressing the soft skin of Mickey’s cheek. They broke apart, noses rubbing lightly together, before making their way towards the car, Ian starting the engine as Mickey slipped on his wig, adjusting it slightly in the rear-view mirror. 

 

With one final, long exhale, Ian turned the steering wheel towards the direction of the border and drove. 

 

He smiled kindly at the border guards, happily showing them his passport along with Mickey’s fake one (who kept his face hidden as much as possible) and the relief he felt when the barricade lifted was akin to euphoria. He didn’t think twice before stepping on the peddle and entering Mexico. 

 

And with Mickey’s hand resting against his thigh and the late afternoon Mexican sun beating down on them, Ian knew this was easily the best decision he’d ever made. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Comment and Kudos if you enjoyed?  
> Twitter: mikhailomeddows  
> 


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